


Death does not wait for us, but as we watch through the peephole, we wonder.

by SfrogPlus



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:35:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25874467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SfrogPlus/pseuds/SfrogPlus
Summary: A boy by the bench.
Relationships: Akamatsu Kaede & Saihara Shuichi, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	Death does not wait for us, but as we watch through the peephole, we wonder.

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE ask questions in comments.

**Seven years ago before I wanted to try and die**

There's somebody who always waits at the bench near where Saihara's uncle works, near the corner where the cafe Komaeda-san works, and the old abandoned building that Saihara likes to think the Yakuza work at. It's a little before the park, and a little after the pet store.

Wide obsidian pupils staring back, a little malnourished, smaller than Saihara, purple fraying hair that tips glow neon, and a slightly squishy-looking face. The kid that stays there is smiling, almost content, with the way the wall across from when the young art prodigy painted on it, horse A and twin B. But there's a glimmer in his eyes, a source in his smile, a twitch when he sees Saihara, that makes Saihara wonder.

They talk everyday when Saihara's uncle is cursing about a case, something about clowns, a mass murder of young children, killing game, Saihara doesn't pay attention. It's hard to, when he thinks of every night, about the way the kid's eyelashes flutter close when he laughs, and when Saihara makes a horrible joke, how he smiles and smiles and God, does Saihara wonder if his face hurts.

It probably does, now that he's thinking about it.

"Yeah..?" The kid is cute. He's smiling still, never quite right and never quite wrong.

Saihara pauses with a serene smile, "Yeah."

Saihara can't remember the rest of the conversation.

**Fours years ago before there was a bullet to my head**

Kokichi Ouma, is the name Saihara has figured for the now eleven year old boy. It's fitting, through the stutters and gestures he makes. It brings a smile to his face.

"Fucking case… the kid didn't suddenly disappear for a reason…" Mummers escape with sigh as his uncle gives him a quick pat on the back and tells him to go to the park. It's a secret, the secret boy. It's  _ his  _ secret. Possession has always made mankind greedy after all, Saihara shrugs. A secret always makes people secretive.

Saihara laughs as Ouma makes a tight frown at him. He's been doing that lately, frowning and laughing and making facial expressions like a real human instead of that long creepy grin he would make. Saihara likes them.

With a small smile, Saihara would bring food to his secret. Ouma smiles, tight and heavy and sad and Saihara smiles back, bright and cheery. They have a moment of silence before Saihara digs into his octopus-flavoured hell.

"Please eat slower. You might die." Ouma says with a soft laugh. 

Saihara tilts his head, "Die while choking." Ouma nods slow and steady, looking down at Saihara's hat in hand with a look Saihara can never place. It's happy, he decides. Love. Though he knows that's a lie.

"I was just lying." His voice goes under and Saihara can't remember what they talk about after.

**Two years ago before I almost thought to drown**

"Kokichi." There's something about how a feeling dwindles up and down in Saihara's heart, heavy, feeling cold like frigid ice. It's happy, he reminds, love. Though we all know that's a lie.

A malnourished boy, tired eyes at glance and cheeks pale looks up. He's smiling, small and slowly and something about it enraptured his interest like the body position of a dead man. Ouma has a strange atmosphere around him, like he knows, knows, knows what is going on, why today, why a rather famous lawyer, Hinata-san, said something about Ouma, or the fact that Saihara's uncle spoke in small groans of his name.

He wants to know, but he knows he won't get an answer.

"Hi Saihara." Ouma waves, sitting on the bench that Saihara has gotten to know so well of. "You look upset. Wanna talk?" Saihara wonders, what would happen if he told Ouma about the lawyer, or his uncle. But in the end, he can't. 

"Mm… I was just thinking of you too much." Saihara says, though he's a terrible liar. Ouma smiles, something that can never be found underneath in shades and shades of covers. Saihara needs this friendship though, so he lies, because that's the only solution.

"Hm," Ouma hums, patting a seat for Saihara to sit down. "I do that too. Think about you a lot. You've been on my mind for ages now." Saihara smiles a little, taking out his usual snack and placing it in between them. As usual, Ouma doesn't eat.

"Really?" Saihara asks.

Ouma pauses, before nodding. "Really."

The rest of the talk blanks out before Saihara can try and think, blurry lines and fuzzy memories swimming in a large lake to contaminate. It's just so… so, so, strange.

**One year before I set up the noose**

Somebody else today, sitting quietly at the bench.

Blonde hair, pale, gleamy pink eyes staring through like encouragement. The same age as him, wearing pale pink and petty music notes that feels dizzy, intertwined with something that shouldn't be. Saihara feels unsafe, like his mind is meant to unravel and speak.

It doesn't.

Still, it's somebody new in this old, rickety town Saihara has only known for his entire mess of a life. They smile energetically, expectingly, as though waiting for someone to come. 

Saihara doesn't. 

A day, Saihara thinks of Ouma's lips, pale and pink. He's a teenager now, so it's fine. week, Saihara wonders where Ouma has gone. Left him, Saihara thinks, before wondering thoughts that make him want to hope. A month, Saihara goes to the bench.

"Hello..? Pardon me, but-" 

Saihara thinks about how Ouma's body would look if he was dead. It makes him feel sick to the stomach, so he doesn't. "Ah! Hello, Shuichi." Saihara thinks about the way Ouma's voice would curl a little when he would say Saihara's surname. It makes him feel warm and sticky inside, like jam sluthering in his eyes. He doesn't know What that is.

Kaede Akamatsu, someone Saihara knew. Saihara doesn't. A killing game, best friends who kissed before execution, mass homicide, blood and pink and everything is going to hell and Saihara can trucking breath because he doesn't trust Akamatsu.

Akamatsu smiles politely, hands rubbing together and moving in silence to quick beats. 

A piano.

It feels freezing cold, heavy and painful, as Saihara thinks of that. He thinks he's reminiscing of when Ouma told one of his only lies of how he plays piano. Love. Happiness. Saihara thinks too much, too much about Ouma, too much about love.

"So… Ah, this must be what Ouma meant." Akamatsu says, before waving goodbye.

Saihara doesn't remember what happens next, only foggy, distant memories of something pink and purple and red and smiling. 

The next day, Ouma is grinning wide off-beat, and the keys of a piano can be heard down the district too loud by someone, playing a theme song too familiar for Saihara to remember. 

**Before I finally die**

Saihara researched about the mass murder of Kokichi Ouma, Kaede Akamatsu, Angie Yonaga, the list goes on. His name is somewhere in there, though he isn't sure why. A large group of clowning around people hosted it. They all died, everyone, everyone but one person. Something about reincarnation, something horrible, yelling, shouting, memories and memories gathered up and crushed. They all died, but one person.

Kokichi Ouma.

Saihara feels sick when he waits by the bench for Ouma to show up. He waits, and waits, and waits.

But Ouma never does.

**Finally**

Ouma is young, when he first meets Saihara, Saihara, the weird kid who waits by the bench with a shy smile on his face and so, so truthful. No lies, because Ouma feels sick when he lies to Saihara, and as Saihara smiles in content, something heavy and something sad beneath, Ouma hugs him.

Saihara cries. 


End file.
